Pointless
by Cobrastryke
Summary: Just little vignettes from different points in the lives of Bella and Rosalie as characterized in Point of Separation.  Nothing major.  A/U and dirty as always.  BxR.


**A/N-This whole story will be comprised of little vignettes from the lives of the two main characters in the story "Point of Separation", Rosalie and Bella. They're not chronological, and they don't necessarily happen during the story (mostly after, actually.) They are, however, the characters as I have written them and will probably be confusing and annoying if you're not familiar. I have not abandoned Point of Separation – far from it. Just FYI.**

**Oh and extra FYI, this little one ahead is a very casual letter Rosalie has written to a friend while drunk. Quite drunk. About a year and four months after where the two girls are in Point of Separation right now.**

**Spelling errors abound – no editing was done, I just felt like posting this so the friend I wrote it for could read it. I'll check it in the next few days and fix the quadrillion errors it holds – but you get the picture. **

/

March 23rd, 2011

My dear friend,

I owe you an enormous apology for not responding to the wonderful letter you sent me quite a ways back at this point, AND to your follow up - somehow I missed them both during my travels... I was worried that I'd totally offended you when I didn't hear back - glad to find out I was wrong. And since it turns out that you did want me to entertain you after all, then I'm sorry, as I've failed you miserably so far...

/

So um, I kind of got married.

That's a pretty good story, right? Yup, I married Bella. Not big-ceremony married, just a quick civil thing in Vermont. I think I mentioned this once before, but Bella and I basically lived there this winter, not all the time of course, but long enough to prove residency. That was never my initial intention, or hers - I just wanted to take advantage of her unemployment and teach her to ski, and God only knows why she wanted to be there… But regardless, um we are officially Vermont residents. Married Vermont residents, license and everything. Although now we're going back home once ski season ends and renovating my loft, but that's a whole second story.

But the story of how it all came to be is kind of funny and awesome (for me at least). Not to mention it is _nothing_ like I'd ever imagined or planned. Booze, impulsivity, an obnoxious competitive streak, and my overwhelming love for her- not a great combo, and once a waterside was thrown in the mix, all my careful planning went to hell in a hand basket. But I did promise to entertain you while the weary days of winter idle by, so I'll give you the long version.

Warning - I'm just writing off the top of my head here, can't promise you'll enjoy anything...

/

So my brother and I both bought houses in Killington last month. They're RIGHT next door to each other, both about fifteen feet off one of the trails - mine and Bella's is the higher one. We got really lucky that they both hit the market at the same time. So his is much bigger than ours but was owned by a family, so right now it's pretty traditional on the inside.

But before I go any further, I have to tell you about ours. It's the ugliest, craziest place right now, but in the most hysterical, incredible way. The guy who sold it was a total burned out professional snowboarder that I'd never heard of, and this was his bachelor pad/Neverland ranch of sorts. And he sold the entire contents of the place with it. Eventually we'll donate all of his stuff, but we thought it would be fun to move in right away because the place is irresistibly wild! Three bedrooms, waterbeds in each one, four pinball machines and a big mortal combat arcade thing in the living room, a pool table in what I guess is supposed to be the dining room, and - this is where it gets crazy - a tiny secret room that's all tinted windows accessed from a tunnel off the living room with a mattress in it and a mini fridge (and when we first found it, a bottle of Astroglide.) Oh and how could I not mention the enormous black tunnel WATERSLIDE that circles from the roof deck down two stories into this monster hot tub/outdoor all-season pool thing on the main deck that faces the ski slope. It looks like a huge black snake from the outside - it's so ugly - and you have to go through our bedroom (also surrounded in tinted windows, with a classy platform California king sized waterbed custom built into the floor) to get to it. Not to mention it costs about a thousand dollars a day in utilities just to run it - pumping a massive jet of heated water up two stories in ten degree temperatures is about the dumbest idea in the world, and the weather wreaks havoc on the whole operation (I've had to hire a man with a cherry picker to get the snow off so it wouldn't collapse - he's been by nine times so far.)

But I'm not giving you all this background for nothing - it ties right into me and Bella.

/

We threw a huge party to celebrate the purchase of the two houses - with my brother, of course – and we collectively had 15 friends from the city come up and stay for the week leading up to said party. Among the friends were Alice, Jasper (he and Alice are just friends now, FYI), Jacob (and three teammates), and of course Bella's sister Leah, who really is named Leah.

So the first night everyone is there: Leah, Ally, and Bella are over in our big hot tub having a little catch up, and I'm down with my brother on his porch, like fifty feet away- everyone else is still out at a bar. Somehow the wind shifts and all of a sudden I could hear everything the girls were saying. It's like two in the morning, and Bella thinks I'm still at the Pickle with everybody else – in fact, I'd only just gotten back. She'd been really miffed at me because I'd told her to go back (from the bar) with Al and Leah without me.

So the last thing I expected to hear was Leah asking Bella if she wanted to marry me. I guess Bella nodded yes, because all of a sudden Leah and Alice are shrieking and giggling and suddenly so is Bella, and Leah is begging to be the godmother to our children and Alice is babbling about weddings and Bella keeps shrieking for them to shut up because I'd never ask her and they'll jinx her. As you can imagine, Emmett and I are dead silent and Emmy keeps elbowing the shit out of me as Bella tells them how much she loves me and all these incredible things she thinks about me and Leah starts working out a plan for her to save for a ring and ask me!

Now you know my Bella and our relationship well enough to understand that this is kind of big for her/extremely out of character. And her sister agreeing that we should get married? Enthusiastically, I might add?

I was SHOCKED. I still can't believe it. Of course I've thought about marrying her a million times, but I never imagined that she would want to. At least not for a long time - my plan was to slowly wear her down until finally it just seemed logical, and I thought she was still getting used to being out and with me and being called a lesbian, and sooooooo not ready to get married. I didn't think she'd ever want me the way I want her.

But Em and I crouched like ninjas in the dark for twenty minutes while she said the exact opposite. And said these incredible things about me, and shared these really incredible, personal, vulnerable, amazing feelings she has for me with her roommate and her sister. Her SISTER.

/

I remember that my hands were literally shaking, and my brother had the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face. I swear to God I think I actually swooned. Bella gets out of the jacuzzi to go call me, and as soon as we hear the door slide shut Emmett turns to me and whispers "dude, you HAVE to beat her to it." I was so flustered I could barely speak but I remember I managed to squeak out "no shit" and Emmy yanked me inside and then proceeded to haul me into the bathroom to show me how red I was, because of course my baby brother finds nothing more delightful than making fun of the way I get around Bella. I hope you don't mind that I'm dragging this out, but I want to have a written copy of this anyways - just to have it, you know? So you get to be my victim and suffer through it.

Emmett laughed at me for the first few seconds as he saw me inside in the light (I NEVER blush or get flustered, it's just not me), but all of a sudden he got really serious because I looked so shaken, and he put a hand on my shoulder and said something like "this is it, isn't it?" - I barely remember, because I was just overwhelmed by emotion that I actually started to cry. In my brother's arms. I CRIED. We figured out later that he hadn't seen me cry since my friend Catherine's funeral. She was killed in 1997. So yeah, it's been a while. I am just so in love with Bella, and I can't believe she loves me so much, and that's what I essentially sobbed into his shoulder in that moment. He was such a good boy - he kissed my forehead and told me how proud he was of me and didn't say another word.

Soooooo... needless to say, after that I:

A) Pulled myself together (ignoring two missed calls from Bella in the process);

B) Snuck up on a very hot brunette as she tentatively made her way through the tiny (like barely fifteen foot) patch of woods that separates the two houses (earning me a hard smack on the shoulder and a serious tongue-lashing for scaring her until we made it into the light of Emmett's porch and she saw that my eyes were red and instantly knew I'd been crying despite my denials);

C) Had the best kiss I'd ever had in my life (up to that point) with said hot brunette, which felt so incredibly good after hearing everything she'd said about me that I can't even believe this is actually my life now;

And

D) Slept until almost 11am the next morning (so rare for me I can't even tell you) after having at least five hours of the best sex that's ever happened in the history of planet Earth.

So now it's the next day. I woke up (at 11!), showered with, fed, and then immediately shooed Bella off to go ski with her sister; called her father the second she shut the door and asked for his permission (believe it or not, he was thrilled - he's quite fond of me - and granted it without question); and called the guy who helps me at Harry Winston to make sure they had the ring I wanted (it's a cushion-cut with a micropave setting, the stone is 4.76 carats and it's from an ad that ran a few years ago where it rested on the beak of a lovebird (maybe you saw it, it's gorgeous and the birds are very sweet.) Bella has had a picture of it clipped from that ad on her Oprah "vision board" for as long as I've known her, and back when we were "just friends" and did a lot of talking about "girl stuff" (and the ad was running constantly), she must have oohed and aahed and told me that it was her dream ring at least three million times. This past December, she went to HW with me to look at a necklace for my mother and that exact ring was on display in a different case. She stared at it (subtly) with this adorable, wistful look in her eye for a good two minutes when she thought I wasn't paying attention (the sales guy was pitching me super-hard, but I have excellent peripheral vision...) So that morning I got him on the phone, and once he confirmed that he did indeed have a brand new, never-worn version of the ring, in Bella's size no less (this is extremely lucky - jewelers can't exactly have much of an "inventory" at that price point), and he'd gotten permission to hold it for twelve hours (it was supposed to be sent to an actress to borrow for the SAGs or something) - once he told me he could hold it for twelve hours, I made a bee-line for my car; called Bella from the highway and gave her some gentle, palatable bullshit about Mr. V needing me for the day (he is my best friend's dad- he lives all alone up in Vermont and I frequently check in on him, as he doesn't have anyone to take care of him but does have some nasty chemical dependencies and suffers from horrible depression - so Bella is used to me occasionally having to drop everything and tend to him); and made it to the boutique on fifth avenue back in NY in barely more than four hours.

/

Again, I apologize for dragging you through this - I'm like four glasses of bourbon in and not even at the funny part yet, and you've already suffered through at least a few pages. But bear with me, it gets good. I hope you're being at least semi-entertained...

/

I pulled back into the driveway in Vermont at ten forty-five at night: eleven hours, five hundred and fifty miles, and too many miserable radio stations later, but with the insanely beautiful ring for my insanely beautiful girlfriend in hand.

/

So the rest of the week leading up to our big party was great - I put the proposal out of my mind (as best as one could expect to given my temperance) since I already had it all planned out for the weekend after everyone left - in the car on the ride back I had booked a horse-drawn sleigh to take us to a clearing by a beautiful frozen waterfall that Bella loves, where a bonfire and marshmallows would be waiting for us (she loves s'mores) and I'd propose by the light of the full moon, etc. etc. I even had a little speech pre-written/voice-recorded - all of this accomplished by the end of the day after I'd picked up the ring.

Suffice it to say, I was feeling extremely satisfied with myself for arranging and executing such perfect plans within such a limited time frame. Superior, actually. I was the most competent, thoughtful, romantic girlfriend in the world - I knew the night would be flawless and elegant, me with my pale blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight, wearing some thick cream cashmere coat, looking down at Bella with a glimmer in my gorgeous green eyes - very "Twilight", actually... I'd look so beautiful and propose so thoughtfully that I'd make her fall even more in love with me, I'd hold her protectively close to keep her warm as we rode home to the sound of sleigh bells (literally) jingling, the ring she'd always dreamed of sparkling on her slender finger, and then I'd whisk her off to some Polynesian resort and lavish her with attention and presents and affection for the rest of our lives, yada yada yada.

*Note- If you couldn't tell, overhearing Bella's words with Leah and Tip, after initially rendering me an emotional wreck, had (after 10 hours of careful reflection in the driver's seat of a speeding SUV) actually given me quite the ego boost. She already told them how special I made her feel, and how amazing I was. With this proposal, I was going to take it to a whole new level. You know me - I always have to be the best at everything...

So I'm completely confident, and graceful, and the perfect, controlled girlfriend I always desire to be the whole week.

Except that I'm not entirely - there is this second part of me that is so excited and smitten with Bella that I just want to like stare at her for hours with this dopey grin on my face. I mean, the way she smiles at me, and laughs, and has this crazy need to keep a few fingers curled through the loop of my jeans, or in my pocket, or clutching the hem of my sweater - whatever - she has this need to be touching a part of me at all times - subtly so no one really sees - and I just think it's the most romantic thing on earth. I am so sprung for this girl it's ridiculous

So there is this whole other part of me that just wants to kiss her like crazy and tell her that I overheard everything that night and I love her even more and "oh my god will you please marry me right this instant?" Not to mention there's also a _third_ part of me that is just dying to tell her about the crazy guy who threw a cupcake onto my Lexus after I cut him off (only slightly) on the drive. That third person is desperate to tell her everything minute and inconsequential to everyone but the two of us; to tell her about the ring, and all these ideas I have for us, and how I saw this cool ice castle in Woodstock on the way down to New York that we should go check out... And so on and so forth, etc. etc.

/

And as the week progresses, collected, elegant, perfect me is really losing the battle with swooning, babbling, love-struck me, because Bella is being so funny and good with her sister and is all of a sudden not afraid for everyone to see how devoted she is to me, and she's being so affectionate and wonderful. Everyone visiting had such a good week - we saw Snoop Dogg (in VT of all places - I'm dead serious) perform one night at this bar/club we always go to (then went backstage and met him - he said it was a damn shame that we played for the other team and he recognized me from my modeling stuff - see, perfect, awesome, hot, even-Snoop-Dogg-loves-me girlfriend, right?)

Bella skied with me and Em and the rest of the advanced group and no one could believe how much she'd learned in just one season, and all fifteen of us had little dance parties in my house every night and spent hours in the huge jacuzzi/pool thing and drank... And most importantly, there was the waterside.

The waterside is a very major player in this hot mess of a story. And finally we've arrived at the point where I can tell you what went down with that big black snake.

Aside from one snafu where my friend Benjamin, who is this enormous black guy who used to play for the Jets (like, third string, but still... he was a linebacker or whichever position is the one where all the guys are really big - you get the picture.) So aside from Benji getting so drunk that when he got stuck in the middle of the second turn of the snake (which he did every time - most of us did, actually), because instead of pushing himself forward to get moving again, Benjamin decided that the rushing water felt so good on his aching back that he ought to take a little nap. In the middle of the waterside. At three in the morning. We couldn't find him anywhere and, afraid that he'd wandered off (which is really not very safe in ten degree weather), were about to call the police when he woke up, pushed himself off, and splashed into the pool, scaring Emmett so badly he screamed like a woman.

But aside from Benji's "nap," the waterside was the highlight of the week.

It is so much fun it's criminal, and all fifteen of us spent hours running up soaking wet through my house and sliding down into the super-heated pool. The whole week was basically a drunken waterpark with no supervision. We all went down that slide every single way possible. The party we finally threw that Saturday was a huge success; an adult cocktail party that slowly spiraled into a two hundred person plus house party from hell - insanely fun. Bella had the brilliant idea of ordering like three hundred cheap towels in bulk online ahead of time because of the slide, and the next morning every single towel was either missing or strewn in weird frozen shapes throughout the property - I think all but a handful of the two hundred or so people that stayed after cocktails ended up going down that damn slide.

/

So we knew that the slide had to be taken down, and Bella and I, despite understanding exactly why it had to be so, were both extremely bummed. It was Sunday night, the night after the party, everyone had just left to go back to New York, and we were in the hot tub/jacuzzi/pool - I give up, I have no idea what to call it - having some very animated discussion about stupid things and giggling a lot and periodically running out off the deck together into the snow in our bikinis, shrieking, sprinting, and jumping back in the pool. The only booze that had survived the previous night's festivities was a case of some God awful Bartle's and James wine coolers - some local's BYOB - but we both decided that our beloved waterside needed a proper liquid goodbye, and thus proceeded to down one sticky strawberry banana something after another while laughing hysterically at nothing in particular. We're good at that. I know how lucky I am that we can do that.

We devised a game to celebrate our last night with the waterside- basically, we decided to dare each other to do crazier and crazier things on the slide, with the game not ending until one of us refused to act upon the other's dare. But the game quickly spiraled into a knockdown, drag out, who-can-do-the-craziest-thing-on-the-waterside, extremely flirty fight between us. We set the pot at $5,000, with the winner having to spend the entire amount at the Rutland mall (like a supermarket sweep- don't worry, we planned to donate everything we grabbed...). Bella decided to record every dare we succeeded in accomplishing on the waterside in a random spiral notebook she found in the kitchen - she wanted to write it all down as a kind of memorial to our slide (as it was soon to be demolished.).

*Worth noting - we were both, by this point, very drunk. And so this seemed like a brilliant idea - the two of us would set out to do the craziest, most random things ever done on a waterside, record our work, and whoever could come up with and execute the most rare/crazy/obscure/random thing would win $5,000. Brilliant!

/

We began the competition by sparking up a ceremonial bowl of some weed we got from one of Snoop Dogg's roadies - and with those last few words you can see, my friend, that this story is headed in a bad direction. That man is very serious about his pot...

Well… actually, it starts off tame - we surf down an air mattress, we collect call my mother, we make entire outfit swaps, dial a sex line, order coke, she tries to pluck my eyebrows, I make her paint my nails - all while on a the waterside, so we can say "I called my drug dealer from a waterside, I got a manicure on a waterside," etc. etc.

But somehow it escalates - while I'm busy sliding down with her while reciting the entirety of the poem "Ulysses" by Alfred Lord Tennyson, Bella starts kissing my stomach...

Sooooo... suddenly it's us running the bases in the waterside.

At first we're laughing as she tries for sloppy seconds and knocks her jaw on my ribcage during a particularly bumpy exit into the pool, but soon it's basically us trying to fuck in the waterside. But we're at an impasse - we can both go tit-for-tat, i.e. if I finger fuck Bella and say "there, who else can say they've fingered you on a waterside", she's then also allowed to go ahead the next time and finger fuck me right back. So we're incredibly hot for each other by now, and also stuck - no one can win.

But after I catch her in the slow part of the slide, press my feet into the dry sides of the tube, and spend about 6 minutes doing all kinds of dirty things to her that can't be printed, we slide down and I splash into the pool triumphantly, smirking at my Bella as I declare that "no one can trump saying that they did that to a hot brunette halfway down a waterside." Because of course I put us in a certain position that she's not strong enough to hold me in (against the force of rushing water.).

But _double_ of course Bella gets very miffed at this and quite pouty, especially with me holding her and whooshing her about the pool while I pepper her with victorious little kisses and giggle while she rants about me always beating her and how annoying it is.

Suddenly she gets very quiet, and I watch her lips curl into a decidedly evil little grin as she grabs my hand and tugs me out of the water and up the two flights to the deck outside our bedroom. She grabs a t-shirt, blindfolds me with it, and then sits me down in the little basin at the top of the slide (where the jets spout out the hot water). I'm of course totally letting her because I know that whatever she's about to do to me can't top what I have just done to her. I can hear her rummaging around inside, but she's back before I can rip off the t-shirt blindfold thing to see what she's up to (no, I don't play fair...)

And then all of a sudden I've got Bella straddling me and making out with me, and of course my guard is instantly dropped and all I can think of is her. She's still like that for me, you know? When we're touching or whatever, coherent thought just seems to disappear.

I can feel something odd but familiar by her thigh, but she is such an incredible kisser that it is literally impossible for me to pay attention to whatever it may be for more than a nanosecond.

That is, until she lays me down in the water, gets right on top of me, and starts to ease us into the slide. Right as I can feel her start easing into me, as well.

I start to protest - I do _not_ want to lose this competition, not to mention I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of _THAT_ on a waterslide...

But she is just grinding into me and licking and sucking in a way that makes my head swim with want. She's being really aggressive with me, and even though I'm still the dominant one more-or-less, I'm much more used to her top thing these days, and I kind of love it.

/

So all I can feel are these incredibly soft, warm, full lips on my neck, and this slender, warm, writhing body on top of me, all while hot water rushes past my head and I slowly move down (Bella has her feet up on the dry part of the slide to slow our progress downward, but I don't notice this at the time.)

My stomach is completely twisting in on itself and I'm way too turned on to protest when she stops us at the flat part and slides something silicone and hot pink into me with more skill and smoothness than you can possibly imagine.

My Bella is an absolute killer with a strap on.

She's braced against the slide while I cling to her and she whispers dirty things to me as she fucks me like an absolute pro. And doesn't stop until I finish, and God I finish hard - time is irrelevant at this point, so I can't tell you when this was.

We make out as she lets go of the walls and slides us the rest of the way down.

She cradles the back of my head so I won't hit it on the drop into the pool.

I am so in love with her it's inhuman.

/

So as she pulls me into her and leans against the side of the hot tub we're now in, I'm not yet coherent. But I feel her adjusting our um, friend (no longer in me at this point, btw).

She's kissing me passionately and then AHHH! Abruptly she shrieks and cries out in triumph as she takes the pink dildo, stands up, and literally hurls it off our porch and onto the ski slope.

She has just thrown our favorite pink dildo onto a ski slope. Fifty feet away.

And she looks down at me with this expression of total victory as she says "well unless you think you can run out onto that slope and get it back so you can fuck me the same way, I'd say I win".

And then she gets all giddy, taunting me and dunking me and kissing me as she screams "I beat Rosalie Hale, I beat Rosalie Hale" and she keeps saying "you can't top that, no one else can ever say they've fucked the gorgeous blonde from the whatever ads in the middle of their private Vermont waterside with that particular dildo. No one can. You can't top it Rose, you just can't. I love you so much so I'm sorry to hurt you but oh my God I just totally beat your ass, it's embarrassing..."

And she's kissing me more and more as she laughs at my scrunched up face while I try (and fail) to kiss back AND think of anything better. Clearly my defeated face turns her on, because we go from her dunking me and taunting me to us slowly making love in the hot tub in about two and a half seconds. That goes on for a while...

/

After we're done, she looks at me with those insanely gorgeous, half-lidded dark eyes of hers and whispers "you're the love of my life Rose. You're the love of my life".

My heart is so swollen it literally hurts. I almost look past the fact that she, Bella Swan, has just bested me in a competition. Almost.

Then she grabs the last of the crappy wine coolers from the ledge behind my head and makes me drink to her success. Even then, I'm still miffed but good, until _again _she gets all half-lidded and tells me that I'm the love of her life. _Again._

All of a sudden, the greatest idea in history hits me. At this point in the night I have not yet told her that she is the love of my life as well. I am still a bit nervous about saying stuff like that, which I think gives it more importance when I do say it, although Bella could tell me she loves me a thousand times a day and it would still feel just as significant and good, so maybe my logic is a little fuzzy. But never-the-less, my desire to win and my love for Bella crash together in that singular moment and I start to chuckle.

"Game isn't over yet, gorgeous girl" I chortle as I proceed to yank her up the countless flights of cheesy carpeted stairs, blindfold her with my last dry t-shirt, and sit her down in that waiting pool. All while she is taunting "I dare you to try, you can't beat me, you can't beat me, this night will go down in infamy".

So like a jackass, here is what i do:

First I sit right behind her and encircle her in my arms and push us off, lovingly kissing her ear and then, as she turns back, her lips as we are whooshed down the slide...

Then, at the flat part, I catch the dry sides with my feet, circle around so that I am facing her as she sits on my (naked-both of us) lap, gently undo her t-shirt blindfold while I whisper to her to brace her feet so that she can hold us...

And then right as she braces and I pull her blindfold off, awkwardly semi-get down on one knee in the tube of a slippery waterside, and present her with the ring.

I know what you're thinking...

But she (being as drunk and high as I was, thank God) just goes "oh my God" and looks at me with eyes that I will never be able to adequately describe to you, and just as I see her perfect lips begin to part, I whisper "Bella, I love you so much I can barely breathe, you are more than just love of my life, you are the greatest love of all time, and I want you, and only you, for the rest of our lives and beyond." (I might not have said these initial words exactly -I was drunk...). "Please marry me, please be with me and we can take care of each other and fuck each other and beat each other at trivial pursuit forever. I just want to fucking marry you so fucking much, I love you so fucking much, you are so beautiful you make me cry" (okay, okay, I was drunk, I told you already - but yes, that last bit WAS, sadly, my exact words...).

She promptly burst into tears as she nodded and sobbed out yes and she let her legs go to embrace me. Without her support, the water again whooshed us down and she was kissing me deeply when we reached the end and shot out of the slide.

And the movement caused her to bite my tongue. Again.

I now have two tiny marks on my tongue - one from one of the first times I made Bella come, and one from when I proposed. Romantic, I guess.

So blood is gushing from my mouth and she's freaking out so she accidentally smacks the ring out of my grasp as she brings her hands to my face to try to care for my bleeding mouth. And then it's my turn to freak out because her ring - her dream ring - is now sinking to the bottom of a cheesy hot tub, where it could get sucked into the vent along with God knows what else disgustingness. Bella has wanted this ring forever, I muse, so I immediately dive under. I fuck up my contacts dramatically as I open my eyes in that gross chlorinated water, but I catch the ring and box as it sinks, so I surface, pull her tight into my body, and let her kiss my face while I put that ring on her finger. HER ring.

I think we fucked like four times after that. Or talked - neither of us is sure. We both sort of remember mind-blowing sex and very emotional revelations. We think...

But thank God, we both remember the proposal.

/

When we woke up the next morning, completely tangled together (and in not a sexy way - think drunk, cold, with chlorinated hair and sticky wine cooler residue everywhere) - she pulled her hand up to me (with the ring on it) and cooed "we're getting married, we're getting married..." (We were both very much still drunk) so I...wait for it

Completely burst into tears. Again.

Again. As much as it (given the content of this letter) probably seems like this is a regular occurrence for me, I must stress that it is not, and tends to really freak out the people around me when it happens. So as I'm choking out the words about how special she is to me and how I can't believe I wasted the most important moment of my life drunk on wine coolers trying to win a bet, she also begins to cry because she thinks that I, drunk as we both were on aforementioned wine coolers, didn't really mean to propose. Which makes me cry harder as I try to explain that not only is she totally wrong, but also to describe how much I've wanted to propose to her - in short, we both bawl and ramble and hold each other until Bella suddenly stops and then snorts a tiny bit, and then all of a sudden I can see just how absolutely ridiculous we're both being and I can't help but snark "oh my god we are such fucking lesbians right now...".

So we both burst into laughter and ended the emotional, still drunk/hungover sobbfest, and yes I did manage to eek out between chortles that I truly did love her more than life itself and although I was totally cool with her saying no, she should just know that nothing in this world would make me happier than marrying her. To which she, also in between chuckles, retorted "oh shut the fuck up, of course I'm going to marry you, don't try and pull your Rosalie bullshit on me, you know how much I want to be with you," and I'd argue "but I proposed to you on a fucking waterside", etc. etc...

/

We spent the first day of engaged life with her collapsed into me, back pressed into my chest, sprawled on a shitty velour couch as we popped Motrin, watched an "I love the 80's" and then "90's" marathon, and tried not to dry heave. At around four in the afternoon, Bella turned to face me, motor-boated my drunken boobs half-heartedly, and then said, "you know what Rose, your proposal was actually perfect, if you think about it. It personified us - ridiculously goofy, completely emotionally retarded, filled with far too much sex, and based on more love in ten minutes than most people could hope for in lifetime.".

I wrote that down. THAT I wrote down.

Then I walked her to the bathroom so she could dry heave, which in turn made me dry heave, and while we both air puked together in the same bowl, she held my hand and urged out "you are the love of my life Rose, I even love you when I'm puking. And still think you're hot. God you're so fucking hot. We're engaged. It's about time. Fuck your eyes look so sexy when they're bloodshot - proceeds to retch - Can we fuck after this? Or make love - whatever, let's do both. God I love watching you puke."

She explained later that "watching me puke" was a metaphor for being with the "real" me.

/

We were married one week later near that frozen waterfall by a liberal Episcopalian priest. Afterwards we made s'mores and rode the sleigh back home. We will do another wedding for all of our friends and family this summer in Maine. Her father will walk her down the aisle, and her mother will be there as well (her homophobia was cured when we paid off her mortgage.). I love that girl more than life itself.

And we are both going to wear dresses.

Warm Regards and my love to all,

Rosalie

**A/N – There you go my sweet muse. Drunk as all get-out. Glad I got it posted though – why not, you know?**

Sent from my iPad


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